Chapter 7

I was still flying high from the events of Sunday. My two schooldays passed in a kind of trance, without really registering what was happening in class, including Ingrid’s distress when I basically ignored her. By contrast, my martial arts practices were incredibly productive, where I showed such energy and skill that everyone was amazed, including the sensei. In retrospect, I think it was because I also gave them little thought, just reacted physically to what was happening in front of me. It was the perfect example of allowing my subconscious and body to control the now rather than overthinking what I was doing. I wish I could have allowed that to happen all the time.

On Tuesday Mom and I had our meeting with the lawyer. Mr. Lockstead looked pretty much like what I expected: expensive looking suit, expensive looking haircut, expensive looking briefcase. I wondered how much money he made and how we could afford it. I soon learned about the latter.

First, he explained that there is a variety of property that passes without a will and without any complicated legal proceedings. Those included joint property such as the house, their stock portfolio and bank account, and the cars. Then there was Dad’s 401(k), of which Mom was the sole beneficiary. That was pretty impressive, but it turned out the big one was the life insurance policies.

Both Mom and Dad had a million dollar policy on them, and the airline also carried a million dollar policy on all of its pilots. Both of those policies were double indemnity, which meant that the insurance company would pay twice the amount of the face value if the death resulted from an accident. There were a lot of things double indemnity did not cover, but there was no doubt this was an accident not of Dad’s doing. So, between the airline insurance and private insurance, Mr. Lockstead informed us that we would soon receive several million dollars.

What was strange to me was what he told us next. When a person dies without a will, each state has a set of procedures established that dictate how the person’s property is passed on to relatives. In our state, the assets are split between the spouse and any children. That meant I would receive half, although the money would be held in a trust until I was old enough. That was fine with me.

I think knowing that we would soon get most of that money comforted Mom a lot. It was not the thought that we would be relatively financially secure (especially at the cost of my dad’s life), but because she had been afraid we would not be able to pay the mortgage and would lose the house. They had put half a million down, but still owed nearly a million and a half, so her salary alone would not be close to paying the mortgage and still be able to buy anything else. It wasn’t just the house, of course, but the entire life she had developed here in the past twelve years, especially with her many female friends.

Then he went into what we could do to protect ourselves, mostly stuff about taxes, investments, and trust funds. Mostly stuff I had no idea what he was talking about, so I definitely tuned out. I was very pleasantly surprised that Mom was totally focused on what he was saying given what kind of condition she had been in mentally for the past few weeks. I knew that it was still incredibly emotional to her, but she was a tough lady and I was proud that she could think first about our immediate future and put her grief into some private compartment to deal with as time passed.

When Mr. Lockstead finally left, both Mom and I were feeling a lot better about what the immediate future would hold for us, at least financially. Mom made another appointment to meet him about all that other stuff he had talked about, but it seems I only needed to be at this meeting because of the way the state demanded we split the assets between us. I was very happy to know I wouldn’t have to get involved in all that other legal stuff.

We were just about to sit down to dinner when another phone call came in from Dr. Faizal. Mom was on the phone with her for less than five minutes. When she finished, Mom came back to the table and acted as though nothing had happened.

After I served myself I asked: “So, what was that all about?”

Mom took her time serving herself, obviously wanting to buy time. “She’d like to meet with you tomorrow.”

I put my fork down. “It seems like we’ve been through this before. What’s this all about?”

She sighed. “It’s about work. That day you came to my office she took me aside and told me she thought there was some reason to believe you might in some way be helpful to her research. She asked if I would give my permission for you two to meet in a formal situation.”

I frowned. “She didn’t give you any more detail than that?”

Mom put down her knife and fork and sighed about twice as heavily as before. “Not really. She just said it had something to do with her search for the ultimate essence ingredient for our cosmetics line.”

“Okay.” I tried chewing some meat, but it became like shoe leather. I spit it out on my plate and looked at Mom. “What’s this got to do with me?”

Mom shrugged her shoulders. “Really, Mark, I don’t know. She was very vague, just trying to convince me it was really important and that it could change the whole direction of the company for the better. And...”

“And?”

“And that no physical harm would ever come to you.” Mom fidgeted with her food, then gave it up. “I would never allow her to do anything that could possibly harm you, Mark. You must know that.”

I nodded. She was still too delicate to upset her, especially for something that was probably just a matter of a few questions from a research scientist.

“Okay, so what does she want?”

Mom looked grateful for my cooperation. “She’d like to have you visit her at the office tomorrow afternoon to have a talk. Do you think that would be alright with you?”

I hid my nervousness behind a smile. “Sure, Mom. I’d be happy to help your company in any way I could.”

The next afternoon, right after school, Dr. Faizal had an Uber waiting for me. I chained my bike up in the school rack and got in. We drove directly to that old building that housed Mom’s company offices.

When I got there Dr. Faizal was waiting and invited me into her office. As far as I could determine she had delicate features and a soft, slender short body with small but pointy tits. But that was all I could determine.

Much to my surprise, she was wearing a mask. It was like some sort of oragami structure, a lot of thick folds that covered her face from the bottom of her eyes to the bottom of her chin. It looked to me like a modern version of a mask to protect people from the bubonic plague. Her voice had not in the least been muffled by the mask, so it must be a very expensive one. She also had on bulky, thick-looking clothes, not at all like the nice dress she’d worn the first time we met.

She didn’t say another word as we went up to her office. When we got there she waved me curtly to a seat, while she sat down behind her desk. I noticed she had moved my chair as far away from the desk as possible.

“What do you know about this visit?” she asked, not rudely, but maybe matter-of-factly. It seemed like she was trying to keep her distance from me in every respect. I guess that was what they called professionalism.

I was baffled. “Well, my mom said you wanted to talk with me about something to do with the things you manufacture here, and she asked me to cooperate.”

Dr. Faizal nodded sharply. “Do you know anything more than that?”

I shook my head. “Nope. Nothing. Other than you might pay us some money if anything results from this.”

Dr. Faizal nodded again, softly this time. “Yes. So, this is the situation. I think that you must have a unique degree of pheromones.”

I frowned. “I don’t know what those are.”

“Most people don’t, even if they think they do. Would you like to learn about them?”

I almost laughed. I wasn’t particularly interested in science, other than maybe kinetics, but I didn’t want to be rude. Mom had asked me to do this, and I didn’t want to disappoint her. Plus it might generate some more money for us, which would be great.

“Is there a lot I need to know?” I asked cautiously.

“I think that, the more you know, the more you will be able to help me. In return, you must tell me everything you can about your daily interactions so that I can better understand how this impacts other people, including under what conditions various reactions occur. Research is all about knowledge, no matter how trivial the information may seem to be. So, the more detail we can discover, the better we can achieve our objective.”

“Well, my objective is to make some money to help my mom. I’m not exactly sure what your objective is.”

She nodded again. It seemed she did a lot of that.

“That’s reasonable. I suppose we should begin by exchanging relevant background.”

I had no idea what she meant, but it suddenly hit me that she meant she was going to ask me a bunch of questions about my daily life -- including my new sex life -- and I was expected to give her all the details.

“Wait a minute,” I said. “You expect me to tell you all about, uh, people’s reactions to me and exactly what we did? That’s really personal. I wouldn’t even want my mom to know all of that.”

By the way her eyes crinkled I was sure she was smiling behind that mask. “Very intelligent of you, Mark. So I’ve already prepared a contract between you, me, and the company explaining clearly what everyone’s role would be, any division of potential profits, and ownership of future patents or intellectual properties that might result from this project. Naturally, there is a very tight non-disclosure clause that binds the company and myself from revealing any personal information from you, as well as binding you from passing on any information that might help any competitor or any other for-profit entity. Ms. Stevens has already signed it on behalf of the company, and I will sign my name right now if you agree to sign yours.”

“Has my mom read this contract?”

“No. But she did have her attorney, Mr. Lockstead, review it, make suggestions, and approve it for her. Do you want to read it?”

I thought about it for a second or two. It would all probably be Greek to me. Okay, I corrected myself, Latin. But, if it was okay with Mom, then I guess it was okay with me.”

So I just said: “Where do I sign?”

We got the signatures out of the way quickly on three copies, one of which she gave to me.

“Is that satisfactory?” Dr. Faizal asked.

“Sure. Why don’t you start?”

She nodded. “Well, as you already know, I’m Dr. Narmin Faizal. I’m originally from Saudi Arabia, but I emigrated to the U.S. and found a job with Hebe Cosmetics as Director of Research and Development. That was a dozen years ago.”

I frowned “Hebe?” I was ashamed to discover I hadn’t even known the name of Mom’s company.

“A Greek goddess,” Dr. Faizal said.

“Oh. The only Greek goddess I know is Aphrodite.”

Dr. Faizal’s eyes narrowed and her voice filled with disdain. “Yes, the goddess of love and beauty. Very trite, and there are already a number of beauty product companies who use that name. Hebe is named after the Greek goddess of eternal youth. We wanted to be unique -- which is why they hired me to try to crack the pheromone challenge.”

“Okay. So why you?” I demanded. “Not just why did they hire you, but why should I trust you to spill my guts about everything in my life, which is kind of what you asked of me?”

Of course I couldn’t see her smile, but her eyes lit up and her voice sounded quite pleased.

“Excellent questions,” she said. “I have a dual Ph.D. in biochemistry and molecular genetics from King Abdulaziz University, which is a highly respected university in Jeddah. I wrote my Ph.D. dissertation on pheromones. My objective is to develop a true aphrodisiac scent for the company. If I can, we can incorporate it into a number of products, which would revolutionize the industry and probably make us the leading seller in the entire market.”

I tried to digest this. “Wow. That would make Hebe, like, a ton of money. Right?”

I could almost see her smile behind the mask. “Actually, several tons of money.”

“Yeah, that all makes sense. But why am I here, exactly?”

Dr. Faizal nodded once more. “When I came in to discuss my progress with Erica -- uh, your mother -- to see if her department could do some research into products actually on the market, you were in the room. As soon as I caught your scent, I was overpowered. That’s why I fled the room. I was afraid of my potential reaction. However, we had a long talk in my office about my suspicions, and I convinced her to let me work with you to see if my initial impressions were correct. Unfortunately, this conversation has been delayed by the tragic passing of your father. When Erica was recovered enough to talk rationally, I’m afraid I pressed the issue a bit more than I should have and got her to agree to this meeting. And here we are.”

“And because of your reaction, that’s why you’re all bundled up?”

Dr. Faizal nodded.

Now it was my turn to nod. It all made sense as to why I was here and what Dr. Faizal wanted of me. I could even understand why I had to learn a lot more about this pheromone stuff. But I was still mystified about why she would want me to spill my guts over how other people reacted to me. So, on to the lessons, which I figured would be a lot less interesting than those of Ingrid. In a way, I was both right and wrong.

“Okay,” I agreed. “So, what’s a pheromone?”

Dr. Faizal launched into her professor mode. “A pheromone is a secreted or excreted chemical factor that triggers a social response in members of the same species. Pheromones are chemicals capable of acting like hormones outside the body of the secreting creature in order to affect the behavior of the receiving creatures. There are alarm pheromones, food trail pheromones, sex pheromones, and many others that affect behavior or physiology. Pheromones are used by many organisms, and their use among insects has been particularly well documented. The ecological functions and evolution of pheromones are a major topic of research in the field of chemical ecology. Those functions include alarm signals, territorial signals, trail signals, and, of course, sex signals.”

I sat back in my chair. That was a lot to understand, let alone absorb. She waited patiently while I tried to process the information. “So all people put out these pheromones?”

“Not necessarily,” she said with a shrug. “We can document the pheromones of many plants and other animals, but research is still very inconclusive in humans.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we know that olfactory processing of chemical signals like pheromones exists in all animal phyla, and is thus the oldest of the senses. Some researchers theorize that it serves a survival function by generating appropriate behavioral responses to the signals of threat, sex, and dominance status among members of the same species.”

“Uh, behavior responses like...?”

“Pheromones serve different functions. Some species release a volatile substance when attacked by a predator that can trigger flight or aggression in members of the same species. Probably the best known use is territorial. Many animals, including canines and felines, lay down pheromones that mark the boundaries and identity of their territory. Social insects commonly use trail pheromones. For example, ants mark their paths with pheromones, laying down an initial trail of pheromones as they return to the nest with food. This trail attracts other ants and serves as a guide to the food source. Then, of course, there’s the sex pheromone, which either attract females or indicate the availability of the female for breeding. However, while it may be expected on evolutionary grounds that humans have pheromones, experimentation has yet to thoroughly prove the active molecules perform that same function in humans.”

I thought about that for a bit. “So,” I said slowly, “if it’s so logical that humans have pheromones, why can’t it be proven?”